


In peace, vigilance. Through my rod, discipline.

by Redacted_Propaganda



Series: On your knees for the Chant of Light [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Circle Mage and Naughty Templar, Desire Demons (Dragon Age), Light BDSM, M/M, Mage Warden (Dragon Age), Pretend there's plot, There is no plot, Trees
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:54:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27524941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redacted_Propaganda/pseuds/Redacted_Propaganda
Summary: "From temptation comes unnatural urges and sinful behavior!" The Knight-Commander had said, but his words died to a hum as an enticing whisper curled it's words into heavy smoke into his thoughts "From temptation comes unwanted truths, present yet unheeded yearning~" Alistair gripped his books of study so as to keep himself grounded. "Through desire, motive. Through motive, desire. A vicious circle carved by vicious minds too eager to label what is human as sin, and what is flesh as unholy~"
Relationships: Alistair/Male Warden (Dragon Age)
Series: On your knees for the Chant of Light [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2011747
Kudos: 15





	In peace, vigilance. Through my rod, discipline.

"Spirits of Temptation are one of the most vile and disgusting predators of newly inducted templars." The Knight-Commander drawled as he addressed the youths before him.

Alistair, still feeling out of place so far from the only home he'd known, was barely paying the old man much heed until the Knight-Commander's fist slammed on the lectern while he was recounting a preventable encounter a young initiate had found with a desire demon. Though there were other spirits of temptation to address in the lesson, and other more deadly creatures of the fade that could reach for a foothold in our world, the Knight-Commander had stopped squarely on lust and decided to make a spirited rant of it.

Alistair wasn't as obsessed with the topic as the older boys were, but he made a small effort to listen out for something to recite to the Templars who would interrogate him later - as they always did in an attempt to curb his attention span into one worthy of the war machine he was expected to become.

"When lust enters our worlds it seeks out the first weak mind it can sense. Pray to the Maker you sniveling runts grow out of such weakness in short time, for there is no greater a sin than the perverse appetites of the flesh!" The Knight-Commander enforced, his eyes passing through the crowd and landing on Alistair. " _You_ -" Alistair's attention sharped immediately as a finger was pointed in his direction. "-may believe no such thing will ever plague you." The older Templar's finger waved about the crowd, ending Alistair's fear that he'd been singled out again for reprimand. "Cling to the illusion that you are above such spiritual and moral corruptions," He paused for effect, seeing the all too eager students' eyes were clouding over as their adolescent minds were falling into the topic at hand. "-and you will die with it." He finished harshly, smirking as the teenagers in his audience were snapped back into attention.

So pleased with himself was he, that he failed to notice Alistair's eyes rolling. As well as the lurking presence who had noticed, in his stead, the amount of care Alistair was taking to tend to this day's lesson - though it wouldn't have helped him, nor any other initiate present.

As a young Alistair fought with himself to take-in the Knight-Commander's words a slow energy with an almost breath-like sensation rolled over Alistair and sunk deep into his thoughts.

"From temptation comes unnatural urges and sinful behavior!" The Knight-Commander had said, but his words died to a hum as an enticing whisper curled it's words into heavy smoke into the boy's thoughts.

"From temptation comes unwanted truths, present yet unheeded yearning~" Alistair gripped his books of study so as to keep himself grounded on higher reasoning, while the room around him remained ignorant of the impulses clawing for purchase in the blond's head.

"Through desire, motive. Through motive, desire. A vicious circle carved by vicious minds too eager to label what is human as sin, and what is natural to the flesh as unholy~"

\-----

Alistair stood in front of the tent, his mind thrumming with a mire of lingering desires left over from his unwanted time in the fade at the mage's tower. He'd hoped to discuss it with Daylen, but didn't find his fellow Warden within. Instead of waiting for his friend's return, he allowed a strong pang of want pull him toward the forest along the path leading to the river they'd camped near.

Alistair was no stranger to his wants and desires, but he had long ago slayed its master - and had taken ownership of them in it's absence. "Why run and hide fearfully from what is human, human?" The demon had whispered to him as he killed her. He'd felt the truth of that statement down to his soul and had wondered ever since if he were truly as hopelessly stupid as others had claimed.

He caught up to Daylen rather quickly, the mage having slowed down to become lost in his own thoughts.

Truthfully, Daylen had what the Chantry would call a sickness towards the male sex. _Truthfully_ , Daylen cared very little what any self-possessed gimp in a holy robe who waved around a collection of cuckoldrist poetry had to say about how wrong it was to admire the curve of another man's ass or how damnable the taste of another man's lips were. Dalen had struggled with desire demons during his time in the Circle, always managing to be victorious without a single Andrastian hymn spilling from his mouth.

The thoughts that had crept around this time, however, highlighted the ways he'd been admiring his fellow Warden - as well as how quickly and easily his flirtatious banter had been returned by the blond. Daylen ached to take in his freedoms more boldly than the shadowy moments of need that the Circle had provided him with, and the strong-bodied friend who fought at his side was rich with base for fantasies and urges.

Daylen swore as a hand fell on his shoulders, thinking he'd begun sinking into one of his daydreams of the blond, and turned to see the very real Alistair ready to ask him something with wide pupils and flushed cheeks. Alistair paused at the curse that had tumbled out of his friend in a tone that bordered on the line of something more delicious.

"I- I wanted to ask you something, if you have time for me." Alistair spoke at last, removing his hand from the mage's shoulder as he did.

"Of course, my apologies for my language-" Daylen began before catching himself. "As you well should! I am a lady of high class and standard and I shall _not_ be spoken to in such a manner!" Alistair huffed in his best Isolde impression, earning a small laugh from Daylen.

"I am sorry, Alistair. I sometimes forget myself and carry on as if I were back in the Circle dealing with Templars and Chanters!" Daylen explained with a slight blush. "Do I remind you that much of a Templar?" the blond asked with a near-whine. "Well... You remind me of them more in the sense of-" Daylen immediately rerouted his train of thought to something more appropriate than describing his fellow Warden as an object of lucrative fantasy. "i-in the sense of you stature! I'm not intimately familiar with other groups of people wearing heavy armor sets and brandishing substantially sized weapons into battle - barring what I used to read stories of larger than life men saving simpering maidens from great tragedies, of course." Daylen smiled, thinking his revision a clever and far less heated version of the truth.

Alistair was not a stupid man, _even though he was_.

He took a step closer to Daylen, though not enough to be threatening, and said "Careful now, mage. All it takes is one moment of weakness and you'll find yourself at the end of my 'substantially sized weapon'." with as much of a 'Templar tone' as he could manage before smirking wisely and giving away the joke. Dalen, however, was affected. Alistair noted the way Daylen's pupils widened and backed away from him again - though he kept the smile - and looked his friend over in renewed curiosity.

"So, you wanted to ask me something?" Daylen managed to stutter out after a brief moment had passed.

\-----

Daylen shifted his weight and spread his legs farther apart.

The satin bindings were tied loosely around his arms, which had been brought behind his back, and were drawn back to bring Dalen flush against the former Templar's chest. Alistair's voice crept huskily through Daylen's senses and leaving his skin flushed and horripilated.

"You mages always flirt with the limits of regulation." Alistair pressed Daylen against the tree, careful to keep the mage's face from pressing into the coarse bark. He ran a free hand down the abdomen of his captured prey. "Did you think having such a pretty face would spare you from a Templar's _righteous discipline_?"

Daylen released a small gasp and pressed into the searching hand. "No, Knight-Commander."

Alistair lavished the front of Daylen's robe with attention and stopped as soon as the mage began to pant loudly. "Such a wicked little maleficar, tempting a Templar like this~" Alistair's lips ghosted down Daylen's neck, lingering at the collar of his robe before slowly returning upwards until they grazed the mage's earlobe. "Should I give you what you want, maleficar?"

Daylen's bound hands were coaxed gently towards Alistair's codpiece where they grasped and kneaded slowly until Alistair ground into them. "Should I use you until you no longer crave such _lascivious auxiliary_?"

"Yes, Knight-Commander! I submit t-to your holy punishment!" Daylen mewled as he canted his hips to support his hand's ministrations against Alistair's hardening cock. Alistair slid his free hand to himself and unlaced his already loosened codpiece and grieves and slipped his member into Daylen's eager clutches. Daylen shivered as his robe was pulled up around his waist, his own appendage trailing a strand of precum from the hem it had briefly made contact with while being raised.

Alistair was careful to pull Daylen's hips back to keep the mage's straining cock from being abused by the tree bark. The mage beneath him arched his back again, pressing his shoulder against the tree for support, as he offered his ass to the Templar. "Knight-Commander have mercy on your ward!" Daylen pleaded as the head of Alistair's phallus pressed against the mage's entrance. Alistair pulled Daylen's cheeks apart and ground his way inside of him before leaning over to whisper " _No mercy for the wicked by the hands of the just_."

Punctuating 'just' with a long thrust, Alistair slowly thrust his length to its root inside of Daylen - pausing only for a few moments once completely seated to gather himself, then inclined his hips and plunged into the mage unhurriedly. Dalen pressed back into the pain as it began morphing into pleasure, slowly and carefully reciting the Canticle of Transfigurations.

"Magic exists to serve man, never to rule over him-"

Alistair grabbed Daylen's bound wrists and started thrusting at a savage pace into a spot that raised a quivering moan out of Daylen's throat.

"Foul and c-corrupt are they who have tak-taken His _gift_ -"

Alistair's other hand found its way into Daylen's hair and tugged.

"And turned it against His children. They- They _shall be_ \- Shall be named maleficar, accursed ones. They shall find no rest in this world."

Alistair grunted after each accentuated and interrupted word Daylen spoke, angling his hips to catch the mage beneath him in the nerves that would make him sob around out words of the Chant.

"Or _beyond_ -"

Daylen's breath caught in his throat for a moment as the pleasure and heat started to coil in his abdomen and writhe throughout his loins. His voice became nearly incoherent as he began the Canticle of Benedictions.

"Bless- _Blessed_ are they wh-who _stand_ -"

Alistair growled, pushing Daylen's hips away from his slightly so his thrusts were made shallow. "Louder, mage." Daylen took a breath and steeled his voice.

"Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and _do not falter_ -"

Alistair hurried the pace, but brought Daylen slowly back onto his cock fully, gently releasing the mage's hair and caressing down his neck.

"Blessed are the peacekeepers-"

Daylen's cock twitched, his balls drawing up.

" _The_ _champions of the just_."

Alistair's thrusts faltered in rapture. "Who is your keeper, mage?"

" _You are-!_ " Daylen's own ecstasy stalking it's way up the shaft of his cock.

Alistair moaned, feeling Daylen tightening in anticipation, and ground himself against the mage's prostate - giving it his full focus. "Who- Who sates your thirst in your time of need, Daylen? Who binds you to the crest of divine euphoria and drives your revelry into fruition?"

"Alistair-!" With Daylen's cry the coil of bliss reached it's apogee and the mage's throbbing member released the bitter seed against the side of the tree. Alistair chased his own against the curve of Daylen's ass, coming breathlessly and spilling ejaculate onto the mage's leg.

Daylen remained in Alistair's embrace after the satin bindings were undone, the blond having yet to grow tired of whispering praises to the mage - and the mage, himself, having yet to tire of hearing it.


End file.
